Standing Still While the World Moves Forward
by luvscharlie
Summary: On the eve of Ron and Lavender's wedding, Hermione is ready to move forward. Harry/Hermione, Ron/Lavender


_Standing Still While the World Moves Forward_ by Luvscharlie

Hermione opened the door to Ron's old room, grateful for the bright orange walls that offered an escape from the party going on below. The Burrow was alive with activity for Ron and Lavender's wedding. She had to admit the ceremony had been lovely, and Ron and Lavender seemed quite happy… and she was happy for them… if a bit jealous… but only a bit.

Her feelings (you know _those feelings_) for Ron had ended long ago. She still wanted the best for him, and there would always be a place in her heart that belonged exclusively to him. After all, he was her first love. But the passionate spark she'd once felt when Ron was near had fizzled and gone out.

Something had happened during the time that Ron had been gone during the Horcrux hunt. Something she'd been in denial about for quite a long time. But she'd come to a point, about six months back, that she simply could not deny the truth any longer…that time she had spent alone with Harry had made her see him in a different way. He was no longer Harry, her friend. He had become Harry… her crush? No, too juvenile. Her intended? No, that made it seem as though things had gone much farther than they had. The fact was, she was a coward, and terrified to admit her true feelings. After all, they were still best friends, and she had a deep seated fear of crossing over that invisible line from friendship to "something more." She'd leave it at "something more" right now, since she wasn't having a bit of luck defining it more clearly than that. Thus, he became Harry, her _undefined_ something or other.

It was strange how Ron's old room could offer her such comfort. It had changed so little since her first visit to the Burrow back so long ago when she was but a girl of fourteen. And in that constant, never-changing (a few new Cannons posters didn't count as change, if you asked her), bright orange room, she found her escape.

The party was in full swing below. She could hear the voices growing louder as the alcohol flowed more freely. The house was buzzing to the point of intoxication with the feel of joviality and well wishes, a milestone passed, and a true putting back together of the pieces. As life tends to do, it was moving on.

And sometimes, she felt it was moving on without her. Everyone else was moving forward, and she was standing still.

Hermione was so deep in thought that she didn't hear the click of the door or the sound of Harry's footsteps crossing the distance of the room to stand behind her. She started and jumped when his arm came around her holding out a carton of Ben and Jerry's ice cream.

"I'm told that occasions such as these require ice cream, and your mum told me this was your favourite kind." Harry pulled off the lid and handed over a spoon.

"You shouldn't have gone to the trouble to go into Muggle London for this, Harry," she said, suddenly feeling shy in his presence.

"Trouble?" Harry said with a smirk. "If I'd told Mr. Weasley I had decided not to go, he would have been heartbroken. Of course, I am still a little worried about his head."

"His head?" Hermione asked, moving towards the bed and taking a seat on its edge.

"Well, he's the one who put it in the ice box. Did he really think that door was just going to stay open? Honestly!" Harry shook his own head and joined her on Ron's old bed, setting the carton of ice cream between them and sinking his spoon in the quickly melting sweetness.

Hermione scooped out a bite and brought the spoon to her lips. Her eyes closed as she revelled in the delight of the sweetness on her tongue. She leaned back against Ron's old pillow and relished in Harry sitting so close. If she but pretended a bit, she was in her own bedroom—her married room, and she and Harry were sharing a domestic moment, and—his voice broke the spell.

"So how are you holding up?"

Hermione opened her eyes, a bit puzzled. "Holding up? Whatever do you mean, Harry?" There were times it was easy to forget that Harry didn't know she was "over Ron."

"Well, Ron just got married, and I saw you head up here. I thought you might need a chance to catch your breath somewhere that the happy couple wasn't. So, how are you?"

She did her best to convey her sincerity, reaching across the bed and touching Harry's hand. "I meant it when I said that I was happy for Ron. He seems pleased to be with Lavender, and I'm pleased for them."

"Are you sure? Because it's okay if you're not, you know."

"I am absolutely certain, Harry." She took a deep breath and charged on before she lost her nerve. "Besides, I've set my sights on someone new."

Harry raised his head, and the look on his face was one of surprise. "Oh, Merlin. I know they've hired Malfoy recently to work in your department at the Ministry. Tell me it's not Malfoy. Anybody but Malfoy."

"It's not Malfoy."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and crossed his arms over his chest. "So, do I know this bloke then? Wait, it is a bloke, isn't it?" His eyes glazed over, lost in thought and a bit of spittle escaped the corner of his mouth.

"Oh for heaven's sake, snap out of it! Yes, it is a bloke. And yes, you know him. And you might want to wipe your mouth because drooling is really not a look you pull off well."

Harry absently touched the corner of his mouth and blushed at the moisture he found there. "'So don't keep me in suspense. Who is it? Oh, wait! Let me guess. Is it someone we work with at the Ministry?"

"Yes, it is."

"Okay. Let me think then. Shacklebolt's hired lots of new people in the last few months. It must be one of them."

"Harry—"

"No, don't tell me. Let me guess… but it's not Malfoy?" Harry looked up at her as if in dire need of confirmation once more.

"No, it's not Malfoy," Hermione sighed more than said.

"Oh, what about that Ravenclaw bloke? What was his name? Sanford? No, that's not right. I knew it all along. I heard they just hired him in the Plants Cataloguing Department part-time. I always suspected you had a secret crush on him. Stanley? Hmm, that still seems wrong. I can't remember his name, but you know who I'm talking about, right? Of course you do. You're Hermione. You always know what I'm talking about."

Hermione grew angrier with every word that passed through his lips. She held her tongue, until she could stand it no longer. "Are you really that thick headed?"

"Thick headed? Hmm, you think so?"

Sighing, Hermione shook her head. "I feel fairly confident of it." She mustered up her courage, reaching down deep inside, reminding herself that she was Hermione Granger. She'd been through a lot—been through it with him—and the time for sitting idly by had passed. She leaned across the carton of ice cream, dropping her spoon down into it, and clasped his face between her hands. He seemed, at first, to want to draw away from her, but she held him close, leaning forward until their noses touched, tilting her head to the side so that they would fit together more easily. Her lips touched his tentatively at first. He responded with a little intake of breath, exhaling warmly onto her skin.

"I think maybe I know him."

Hermione couldn't contain a small giggle. "Do you now? Nothing gets by you, does it?"

"Well, if I'm wrong, you might tell me now, before I continue talking and embarrass myself further." Harry's nose bumped hers once more, and his glasses canted just a bit to the right, as his lips closed over hers. "I guess it's a good sign that you haven't stopped me, yeah?"

"Yeah." Hermione could feel herself heat up, a stark contrast to the goose bumps that raised her skin and the moisture that gathered in the apex of her thighs.

They jumped guiltily apart when Charlie Weasley's voice echoed loudly from downstairs, singing a drunken song very off key.

Harry was the first to recover himself. "Sounds like things are getting a bit rowdy downstairs."

"Yes, well, it's been a long time since there's been something good to celebrate around here. It's nice to hear."

Harry nodded in agreement. "It is that." He leaned forward once more. This time, he did not hold back. His kiss was firm, his tongue begging ingress and permission to explore. She gave it over willingly, kissing him heartily in return. One kiss became two, and with each flick of a tongue, caress of hands and smacking of lips, Hermione could feel herself being swept away by a tide of emotions that had been pent up far too long. Being with Harry simply felt right.

Harry pressed her back into the mattress on Ron's old bed, his fingers fumbling at buttons, and her own hands shaking both in fear and anticipation. The Quidditch players that zoomed in and out of one of the recently added Cannons posters seemed to cheer them on as Harry's hand cupped her breast, kneading, experimenting with pressure as he gauged her response. His knee nudged apart her thighs as he finally managed to free her from both blouse and bra (both skills in which he could stand some practice).

Harry's fingers moved up her thigh slowly, inching her skirt higher and higher as he kissed her tenderly. She found her rhythm, moving in time against his fingers in a way that was so natural it seemed as though they were born for just this moment.

There was a chorus of good-byes and well wishes from downstairs as Ron and Lavender exited their party to start a honeymoon—a new start—a life together. But as Harry and Hermione became one, the world outside that little orange bedroom ceased to exist… at least for a moment.

_A/N: This was originally written for the smut4flowers fest on Live Journal, in honour of simons_flower who passed away unexpectedly and left all of us reeling. She is missed greatly by those of us who knew her._


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